A Winner is You Whist
by AngelLucifel
Summary: One of my entries into Avatarjk137's "A Winner is You" Tournament. So, a small storyline based around fights with other characters from other genres. This one is Whist from "Broken Sky"
1. Intro

Whist

Whist

"You know, I let you travel with me because I thought you _weren't_ like other women. A detour for shopping was not something I had planned for."

Whist sighed and sat heavily on one of the couches arranged tastefully with ridiculously ugly upholstery. The large grey dog at his side huffed agreement and plopped his head in his master's lap, whimpering until Whist began scratching his neck fondly.

The woman named Li'ain standing across from him with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face, was regal and beautiful, possessing still all the grace and authority she had held as a princess, and she was once again frustrated to near screaming by the man lounged in a most ungraceful fashion.

"Look around you self-centered fool." She snapped. "Does this look like the normal crowd to you?"

Whist perked up an eyebrow and glanced over towards the center of the mall where a massive throng had gathered. His skin-dyed face puckered into a curious expression, and the beast, Blink, began growling softly. The group he saw gathered was indeed of a strange and diverse sort, made of all odd shapes and sizes and many exuded a tangible aura of power.

"Ok…I'm listening…" He said, turning back to Li'ain.

"It's a tournament."

"In a mall?"

"Yes, and I know you're about to make some witty remark so just shut it and keep listening." Whist scowled but held his tongue. "We can't keep traveling aimlessly and hoping luck will help us along—"

"I don't know about that, I'm pretty damn lucky."

"Will you keep your damn mouth SHUT please?"

Whist scoffed and crossed his arms, glowering at her.

"We need some money." She continued. "We need supplies and a settled base from which we can perhaps determine some _point _to our lives."

"Excuse me b—"

"LISTEN. At the very lest _I _need it, and you _owe _me, so, you're going to participate in this tournament. And you're going to win. Then, we'll either split the money and go our separate ways or we can work towards something together, I don't care either way so long as I get out of this continuous pointless-ness you call a life."

"So, I'm going to fight against _those _guys, most of who look like they would eat me for breakfast if they got the chance, just so _you _can get your way?"

"I don't care how you look at it, but you've got the basic idea."

"Maybe you never really stopped being princess Aurin…"

Whist was so shocked he didn't register that he had been slapped until the pain started tingling into his cheek. He looked up at Li'ain ready to yell or launch a return strike, but he paused when he saw the look of utter hurt and rage on her face, and noticed in a clammy fear the black and green aura limning her body. They stared at each other for a long moment, dead-locked in a staring contest until Blink yapped and bit Whist's hand gently, finally causing Whist to break eye contact and turn to the dog. There was a flash of something between them; that strange communication they seemed to have streaming between them constantly, and then Whist sighed.

"Fine. What exactly am I expected to do?"

Li'ain's aura flickered out, and her posture relaxed—though only slightly. "Here." She said handing him a paper. "This is our copy of the contract, all the rules and regulations, any questions?"

"Just one." He smirked up at her un-amused face. "I get to use my dog, right?"


	2. Whist vs, Lancer Round 1

**Yo, this is my first fight in the tournament. I had NO clue who Lancer was and there's no a lot of info on him, so apologies if he's out-of-character. I hope you enjoy this. The characters aren't mine.**

Whist Vs. Lancer

Li'ain was just rolling her eyes when Death by Chocolate picked up the mic and began to announce the first-round matches loudly over the intercom.

"So soon?" Whist griped, rubbing Blink's neck.

Li'ain turned away and headed for a clump of spectators that had taken haven in a small cove that seemed like it would be well out of the way of combat, giving Whist not so much as a parting glance. He shrugged it off and, hearing his name crackle over the speakers, went to search for the man named Lancer. Blink would not walk with him, but instead stood firm, growling angrily. Whist didn't second-guess it, but instead was immediately on the lookout—which made him once again saved by his dog's internal instincts. He jumped out of the way of the descending lance with barely a hair's-breadth between his neck and the point, and head-long into a luxury-shop window, getting himself covered in massage oils and scented lotion on the way through. Blink was already at his side as he heaved himself back to his feet, glaring at the man standing in the window-frame with his lance held casually at his side.

"Well, well, now you smell as girly as you look." The man said.

"Oh, spare me the tired pre-battle banter." Whist grumbled as he rolled the kinks out of his shoulders. "I don't really want to _be_ here so if you would just stop running your mouth and let me get to kicking your ass, I would really appreciate it."

"I don't like that mouth of yours…"

"And I don't like your face. I guess we're even."

He didn't dodge the next strike, instead the tip of the lance pierced through nothingness, leaving Lancer stumbling against the abrupt lack of resistance, and turning frantically to seek out where his opponent had vanished to. He caught sight of a flash of multi-colored hair racing toward the roller-coaster, and struck out to follow. As Whist approached the large and complex contraption he quickly surveyed its mechanics and main station, sending a meaningful thought to Blink before beginning to climb the web-like metal-work supporting the tracks. Lancer was something of a better sprinter than Whist, and reached the frame before Whist was halfway up, but rather than interrupt his opponent's climb he circled around a turn in the tracks, and scrambled up the metal-work, beating Whist to the coaster's highest point by a good fifteen seconds. Just as Whist had pulled himself firmly onto the top on the frame, Lancer put one foot on either of the tracks and with an exuberant cry shot himself down the well-slicked tracks in a head-long charge. Whist had just gained his footing, and didn't trust a safe landing if he jumped, so he was forced into the only option left—he braced himself.

The force of it still sent him flat on his back and clattering down the track, his head cracking against the metal bars and sending a blinding flash across his vision for a few seconds—long enough to let Lancer get another hit. The force of the bolt took the wind from Whist anew, and his cry was caught in a gag.

His distress was a wordless signal and Blink sprung into action.

Just as Lancer was pulling back for a new blow, one he obviously hoped to finish Whist with, the entire structure rattled into life, and the car began clattering to the top of the hill. He spent too long staring at it; Whist regained his breath and swept a foot into the back of his knee, dropping him forward and allowing the skin-dyed boy to jump to the tracks a good six feet away, near the end of the course. Lancer followed with only a second to spare, as the train came roaring down the slope. He barely skipped a beat before chasing Whist up the incline to the loop-de-loop. He shot an energy bolt after him, but Whist flipped over it, and then used his reckless momentum to carry him up the loop and then swing around to stand on the top. The next few minutes were a blur of volleying attacks as Lancer sent his bolts at Whist and Whist retaliated with a succession of razor-disks that came frustratingly close to Lancer neck, but left only pointless nicks. Just as Lancer was drawing near enough to climb up to Whist, his prey instead came right to him, leaping down at Lancer, one heavy boot out in front. Lancer lifted his crossed arms in a guard, and Whist's foot landed right on center-point, where his opponent absorbed most of the energy, but still made him stumble back a step, and most importantly his lance clattered to the ground. Whist twisted his body and reversed his momentum, spinning around to throw another disk, which thudded into the track without causing so much as a scratch, and then Whist landed heavily a few feet ahead. Lancer chuckled and went to retrieve his lance, but found that he could not move. In disbelief he shot a glance at his foot, and found that Whist's weapon had landed firmly in his shoe, standing between his toes and sealing his boot to the track.

As he glared on, Whist kicked the lance off the edge of the track and then glanced up and over Lancer's shoulder, at where the car was fast approaching.

"You got about fifteen seconds you know…if you surrender first I'll help you out."

Lancer spat at him and began trying vainly to pull his foot free. Whist shrugged and turned away, but suddenly was jerked back, a fist clenched tight around his hair.

"We're not finished. If nothing else I'll take you out with me." Lancer growled.

"Oh really?"

A round blade slit a chunk of multi-colored hair from Whist's scalp, but in triumph Lancer saw that Whist would not have enough time to get away…but suddenly the dog was there, and with an immature gesture Whist and Blink were safe on the ground—just in time to watch the train collide with Lancer's form and send it flying off the roller coaster and into a far-off wall, where he lay crumpled and unconscious.

Whist patted Blink's head. "Good boy."


	3. Interlude

Intermission:

Whist ran his fingers through his hair, twisting the ends of the newly-shortened patch. He sighed, and scowled down at Blink, who was panting happily, his only thoughts on the recent victory. Whist smiled. For as smart as his dog was, for as deeply connected as they were, Blink still possessed that beautiful, animal simplicity that put Whist at ease. A boy and his dog, that was how things should be.

Which brought his attention back to Li'ain. She had been watching him approach with a look that was likely speeding up global warming worse than a fleet of Hummers—if Whist had known anything about that sort of thing. She said nothing when he stopped before her, stood like a marble statue as the crowd around her dispersed; offering Whist congratulations and shoulder-pats, which he took amiably, smiling and thanking them all, his sly charm hiding just how awkward the attention made him feel. When they had all gone, she was standing there, stone-still, and Whist (being already out of sorts) felt an uneasy smile form on his face.

"Care to give me a trim?" he asked, rubbing a hand through his hair again.

"Is that all you have to say?" Her mouth moved, and that was it. Her arms were still firmly folded, and her eyes still like glass.

"Er, yeah…it is…well, please, I guess." He would normally have never said it, but he assumed that was what she wanted and didn't feel like pissing her off twice.

There were five seconds of excruciating tension before she finally unfolded, shifting her weight and dropping her hands to her hips with a deep sigh.

"Sure." She said, and then headed into a near-by kitchen store to buy some scissors.

- - -

They sat in one of the small boats that floated down the water-way, as Whist started binding the few wounds he had received and Li'ain snipped away at his hair. They sat in silence; it was something they had gotten used to while traveling together. At first they had bickered constantly, for the sake of filling the air that would have otherwise been filled with horribly embarrassing uncertainty. After all, he had killed her father…but, then again, she was glad he had.

After a while, they had come to accept that they would need to learn how to deal with the silence that would come when the banter grew stale and there was nothing left to discuss. Whist was used to extended silences, being ever happy to be with no-one but Blink, and they had no need for words, and Li'ain has spent a lot of her child-hood in her own head. They knew how to accept silence, but their separate silences seemed to conflict and create their own sort of noise when allowed to occupy so near a space. So they learned to ignore each other. And after some time that feigned ignorance became acknowledged too, and they slowly learned to weave the strands of silence together so it was a sort of conversational quiet.

They conversed now, in the whispers of the last round's aftermath. As the people on the walk-ways talked back and forth of gossip and strategies, their boat was filled with nothing but the click of scissors and tying of bandages. They floated into one of the under-ground tunnels, and the other noises become nothing but a slight echo, and their wordless discussion became thicker, filling the entire space around them. The snap of the scissors was in sharp, quick motions, Li'ain held his hair tight in her fingers, pulled it so he would move as she pleased without being told, and every-time he winced from the motions a small sense of satisfaction went into the next cut. As the satisfaction seeped into Whist's pores with an obnoxiously justified attitude he would scowl and wrap a bandage slightly tighter, his teeth grinding subtly behind his lips. He was not upset that she was mad, but rather because she had every right to be. He had crossed a line, he knew that, but at the same time his natural demeanor did not allow him to blame himself entirely. After all, after however many months they had been together she should have known he didn't mean hardly any of the words he said. She shouldn't have taken it so badly to heart. It wasn't his fault, really, when you thought about it.

Unless you _really _thought about it. Unless he thought back to the day he had chucked one of his razor-disks straight into her father's face. A feat only possible because she and a couple do-gooders were holding him at bay. And what was the last thing she had said to that father of hers?

_I hate you._

With all the pain and trauma bringing a conviction to her voice that had rattled Whist's core. He didn't admit it. He would never admit it. But he had killed King Macaan that day, taken that un-characteristically risky jump out into the frontlines of battle not just for the greater good, but for _her_ good. Because damned if he didn't pity her in that moment, if he didn't for one second of his god-forsaken life care about someone besides himself and think they deserved better.

But he didn't think that far back. His thoughts lingered on the way she had just scratched his ear with her finger nail. Completely unnecessary, that. He tied off his last bandage and momentarily unclenched his teeth.

"You done yet?" he asked.

She didn't reply. She made a few more quick cuts and then dropped the scissors on the boat floor as they came out to the open again. They stepped off the boat into the excited clamor of spectators and contestants and started walking back to the main area, walking together out of habit, but looking everywhere but at the other person. She was too hurt and still tender about her past, and he was too much of an ass to think himself at fault.

"I'm going to stop in here and get a drink." Li'ain murmured, so quietly he didn't pick it up until she had already turned away and stepped inside a tea shop.

He turned to watch her through the window, considered following her and then realized how very bad an idea that was. With a sigh, heavier than the earlier one, he looked up at his reflection. His hair was now a fluffy sort of short, with long bits hanging around his forehead and cheeks. The absurd coloring didn't flow quite as nicely, and it reminded him a little of his old pal Ryushi. After a few seconds he didn't want to look at his reflection anymore, even though it was a very nice haircut.

**Yeah, yeah I know I should be writing my next fight scene but I started this bit and realized it would take too long to just be a quick intro. So, here you go; intermission number one. I may have a few. Hope you enjoy. (and since Whist is so obnoxiously un-known this may help you know his character a bit more. Although he's usually not so emo)**


	4. Whist vs, Massie Block Round 2

Whist Vs. Massie Block

Whist looked for his opponent amid the sea of spectators that had formed a half-circle around him where he sat on a blue plastic bench, arms crossed and his scowl focused hard on their midst. After all the fiery explosions and impossible feats of mutation from the previous round, Whist was vaguely surprised that the man who had simply gotten someone bull-dozered by a roller coaster had attracted the largest crowd, but he had learned a long time ago of the strange ways human humor worked, and merely rolled his eyes at it.

"Start the fight!" someone bellowed, and Whist cocked an eyebrow.

"My opponent isn't here yet." He replied icily.

His haggler shut his mouth and shuffled further back into the crowd, but a brunette girl who had been standing smack in the front took another step forward, her stiletto heels clicking loudly.

"Um, I've been here for, like, a while now…" She said, putting her weight on one foot so her hip popped.

Blink grumbled a noise of curiosity, and Whist stood up slowly, eyeing her. "_You're _my opponent?"

"Well…yeah…apparently…"

"And, may I ask, what exactly is it you _do _that got you here?"

Her eyes lit up a little. "Shopping!"

Whist paused and a look of shock twisted the skin-dye on his face. "…Seriously?"

"Yeah, there's nothing I do better or love more! You better watch yourself, cause I am _totally _great at what I do."

The was another pause, as Blink and his master stared at her incredulously, and though she did fairly well keeping her composure Whist didn't miss the heavy swallow and fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie. She was nervous, obviously unsure what to do next. She thought she was making a good show of confidence, but she really was just a teenage girl of no particular note-worthiness. Whist was a little insulted. He realized now that the crowd had chosen this battle not for the entertainment, but for the safety.

"Fuck this, let's just get it over with." He grumbled, reaching for a shuriken.

"Wait!" Massie squeaked, holding up her well-manicured hands. "Don't you like…want more of a challenge? I mean, you could obviously knock me flat on my ass in like, two seconds, so wouldn't you rather beat me at something that we're evenly matched in and really _earn_ the victory?"

"No, not really." Whist replied unhooking the blade-disk and twirling it in his fingers. "Here's the deal girlie; I'm only here for one thing, and that's to get through and out of this god-damn tournament and the quicker the better. You're outta luck."

He raised his hand and Massie's eyes widened, her knees bending to spring and run away, but her ankles wobbling on the four-inch heels. She was done for. Just as he was about to launch, however, his arm was stayed, and a tail whupped against his legs, demanding attention. With a sigh Whist turned towards his dog, slowly retracting his forearm from the beast's maw and raising his eyebrows at him. One moment of thought later, Whist turned back to the quaking girl and said;

"Fine. We'll do it your way. Name your game." He folded his arms.

Massie was so relieved she could hardly think, she tried to grasp an idea that would take full advantage of her new life-line but Whist's impatient stare was making her nervous again. Finally she decided it was best to leave it to luck and blurted out; "Poker."

Whist nodded slowly, he had encountered the game once or twice in his travels, or at least variations of it, it would do fine.

"All right, you pick the place, I'll get the cards. We'll meet in an hour."

"The rose garden in the left wing?" She offered, remembering seeing it and thinking it was a really cute, calming sort of place.

Without further acknowledgment Whist turned away and headed out to find a card shop, Massie could only assume that meant he accepted.

- - -

Massie sat at the small stone table, fiddling with the straps of her Prada purse, and tapping her right foot against the flag-stone walk. The garden was small, and hardly of note in a mall with so many huge attractions, but Massie thought it was nice, and honestly it made it harder for the spectators to find them, leading to a smaller, quieter crowd, something that would help her nerves exponentially. It was simple too, with four flagstone walkways with gentle curves that met in the center as a broken wall of stone imported from some roman ruins and the table where she now sat. In the corners between paths roses grew in well-trimmed bushes and along trellises in all colors, coordinated to create spiraling patterns that entranced the eye from all angles.

Massie sighed, and leaned back, pursing her lips as she considered her opponent. The guys here so far had been way creepy, making her uncertain of how to handle herself, but now that she had been given time to actually give thought to her opponent she had steeled in her mind that one man could not be so different from another, and had pumped up her sex appeal by taking off her Abercrombie hoodie to reveal the low-cut tank underneath, the one that hugged her curves _just _right, down to her belly button, underneath which was an inch or so of bare skin which slipped under the tight edge of her favorite denim mini. With an extra dab of lip-gloss and a few well-chosen accessories she would have him so distracted the game would be in the bag. Plus, she had been _really _lucky so far, she had faith her luck would hold.

Whist approached after another half-hour, and Massie cocked an eyebrow as she saw she wasn't the only one to make a wardrobe change. Whist now wore a long navy-blue jacket with a fringed collar and black embroidery down the sides which was in _no _way fashionable, but she did have to acknowledge the dramatic flare it added as it cracked in the wake of his crisp walk. She gave him her best critical look, the one that sent the sad little freshmen running to the bathroom to cry first period away, but he only continued on his way to the bench across from her.

'Ehma_gawd_,' she thought while looking him up and down as he sat across from her and giving her a quick un-concerned glance. 'He is just one big mess. I mean come _on, _rainbow hair? He is in for one hell of a shock when that little punk get-up doesn't do a damn thing against me.'

Whist took a sealed deck out of his pocket and placed it in the middle of the table.

"Care to get us started?" He asked.

Massie nodded. "Totally. What's your game?"

"A single round of five-card draw."

"You bet."

She opened the deck and began shuffling, leaning against the table and tilting her face so her little pout was accentuated.

"You wanna deal?" She asked, with a little smile.

He didn't look up. "Go ahead."

With a shrug she passed out the cards and put the pile in the middle. The two of them took a moment to examine their hands.

"So, I have _got _to ask, what's up with all that…you know…stuff?" Massie asked, eyeing his hair, tattoos and jacket.

He moved one card to the left. "I don't know what you mean."

"Well, are you, like, trying to get attention or what?"

Whist raised an eyebrow at her, finally looking up. "Now, really, do I seem like the kind of guy who gives a rat's ass about who's checking me out?

"So, what, you want people to get a false impression?"

"I always give exactly the impression I intend to."

Massie pouted a little more, this time really out of frustration, and looked back at her hand; she had a pair of jacks, a queen, a five and a seven. She looked up and watched as Whist took three cards out of his hand and placed them next to the deck.

"You know, I feel I should warn you," he said, drawing a card. "I'm obscenely lucky."

Massie raised her eyebrows. "Really? I don't know if you've realized this, but I'm the chick who beat a freaking _ninja _in my first fight, like, _ever_. I think I'm the lucky one here."

"Ah, but you see, girlie, that's just one instance of a little luck." He drew another card. "Why don't you try living your life moment to moment, every second walking the edge between life and death? When the slightest change in your environment can push you one way or the other, when you have to trust that your blade will strike just a little straighter than the other guy's…that, my dear little girl, is what being lucky is all about." Very slowly, he drew his final card, glanced at his new hand and then looked back to her. "Go ahead, try your luck."

Massie knitted her forehead as she stared at Whist, trying not to let the cool, un-wavering stare he was giving her get under her skin. She put her two number cards in the discard pile.

"Well, you know what," she said, trying to keep the mood light. "At least _I_ look good doing it."

Whist snickered as she drew her two new cards, and Massie couldn't hold her poker face as she saw another jack and a ten.

"You ready?" She asked.

"Certainly, go ahead and show."

She slapped down her hand. "Ha! And there you have it, rainbow-head."

Whist looked down at the cards, his expression dead-pan. Massie waited for some reaction to come onto his face, feeling her nerves slowly re-building in her stomach and finally he took a deep breath and sat back.

"You know what I find really amusing?" He said. "The fact that you are just so _stupid." _Massie straightened, glaring at him. "You think you're so much better than everyone else because you wear expensive things and have an attitude. You think the world is at your feet and if you flash a little cleavage no one will know anything else exists. I've been traveling with the most beautiful woman in the fucking world for almost half a year now, trust me, your little jail-bait ass does nothing for me."

Massie was appalled, but her retort was jumbled in with another cry of shock as Whist laid down his hand to reveal a full house of aces full of nines. She looked, gawking, from the cards to Whist's smirking face.

"I told you kid," Whist said quietly under Death-by-Chocolate's declaration of his victory. "I'm one lucky son-of-a-bitch."

"_How_?" Massie wailed. "That's not fair!"

Whist stood and stretched his shoulders, then looked back at the fuming teenager. "No, it's not. Nothing is ever fair; I learned that a long time ago. You wanna know how I've always stayed so lucky?" He leaned onto the table, so he was a few inches from Massie's face, staring her down. "It's all home-made." And he flicked the rest of his extra aces out of his sleeves.

"_EHMAGAWD_!! You cheated!" Massie cried. "Ref! This guy's a cheat!"

Death by Chocolate gave her an incredulous look. "And?"

She was taken aback by his apathy, she looked around for support from one of the spectators but found none. "So he should be disqualified!"

"Did you read your contract, kid?" Whist asked.

"Well _duh_ I'm not stupid."

"Did it say anywhere that cheating wasn't allowed?"

Massie opened her mouth, but her argument seemed weak. She looked at Death by Chocolate again, her expression imploring. "That can't be right! I mean, that rule is just a _given _isn't it?"

Death by Chocolate shook his head. "No, it certainly is not."

Whist walked around the table, stopping to lean over her. "See, little girl? If you really wanna make it anywhere in life you have to know what the _real _rules are."

"Gawd, stop being so condescending!" Massie snapped, standing up sharply and turning to glare at Whist. "I _know _about real life, ok?"

"Do you? Do you _really_?" Whist took a step forward, so they were very nearly pressed against each other but with the faintest sliver of space between them.

"Yeah." Massie said, keeping the strength in her voice but unable to keep her hands from shaking. "Yeah I do."

Whist chuckled. "You are such a fool. You think you'll always be the boss? That everyone will always look to you as some kind of goddess? That for as long as you live, you will be the most gorgeous girl in the room and everyone will want to be like you, because you are something above and beyond them? Is that it?"

"…No…no I—" She tried to step back but Whist grabbed her arm, Death by Chocolate took a step forward, ready to intervene if a fresh fight broke out.

"Would you like to know what you are?" Whist said through his teeth. "What you really, _truly_ are? What anyone of worth will see you as?" Massie was trembling throughout her body now, looking up at Whist in shock. "Ugly." Whist said, making the word as sharp and cold as he could. "Ugly in the worst way. Ugly right down in whatever sort of soul you have. Because of the way you treat people, because of the way you look at the world." He let Massie sink to the ground, but kept his hold on her, kneeling with her and leaning in so he was whispering right beside her ear. "So you see, Massie, for all your haughtiness and superiority, you are just like me."

Whist released her and let her slump, then, with one last scornful look he turned on his heel and stalked out of the garden. Blink watched him for a moment, a soft whimper in his throat, and then followed sadly, unsure what this sudden change in his master meant.

**A/N: Okeeday, then. I had the idea for this story in my mind pretty well but it just, didn't want to be written. I hope it came out ok in the end. Massie was blessedly easy to characterize, and I liked making my own spot in the mall. Hope ya'll liked it too!**


	5. Interlude 2

Interlude 2

She had had the decency not to slap him until they had some privacy, but whist thought the crack of skin on skin was probably loud enough to be heard by the patrons walking outside of the small hallway they she had pulled him into. He grimaced and straightened himself slowly rubbing his reddened cheek.

"Right…let's not make this a habit, shall we?" He said through his clenched teeth. Blink sat somberly by his feet, completely lacking his usual energy. He whimpered softly as Li'ain's fist clenched, she and Whist were standing across the narrow passage, Li'ain glaring hard and cold and Whist's face apathetic and impassive.

"Seriously, what's wrong this time?" Whist grumbled, rubbing his jaw.

"You didn't have to do that." Li'ain hissed.

"Do what? Win?"

"You had already won, Whist. She's just a teen-aged girl. You didn't have to break her spirit like that—"

"Li'ain, I know her type, and trust me, she's treated plenty of people just as badly."

Li'ain folded her arms, her expression making the slightest shift from anger to disgust. "You're a sick man, Whist. That dog of yours has more of a heart than you."

Whist shrugged. "I don't doubt it."

Li'ain's lips quivered with the desire to shout at him, to yell at him until his ears bled, but she knew sheer volume would never get through his thick skull. Still, it would have been nice for her own sake, to finally just let loose and scream his obnoxious little head off. But being a princess had taught her nothing if not restraint. So, instead she took a step forward staring unwaveringly into his eyes with as much disgust and hate as she could muster.

"You were wrong, Whist, no one is as ugly as you." She spat, and then stalked off again.

Whist felt the sting of that, but worse was when, upon looking down at Blink for some denial of her cold statement, his dog merely whimpered softly, gave him a somber look and then loped after Li'ain.

Whist trembled as he watched the beast turn the corner out of the passage, and leaned back against the wall as Death by Chocolate's voice echoed down the corridor's of the mall, making a booming announcement Whist would have to pay attention to eventually. But for now, he felt rather lost.


	6. With Zoro Vs Avatar roku and Sylar

Whist (and Zoro)

Vs.

Avatar Roku with Sylar

Whist waited impatiently at the central hub, sitting in a slouch at the foot of the massive spiral walkway, fiddling with one of his razor-disks, his mind a muddled mess of half-thoughts. He had no solid focus, but he mulled over the recent happenings with a vague frustration. He was given no time to clear his mind, however, because in the next moment a green-haired man sporting three swords at his waist approached.

"You must be Whist." He said, extending a hand. "I'm Roronoa Zoro, your partner."

Whist stood sharply, getting close to Zoro's face, his fists clenched. "I don't need you." He hissed, unexpectedly hostile. His patience and tolerance had worn thin over the past day, and he took offense easily at the smallest thing.

Zoro didn't step back, but instead leaned into the intimidation, thrusting his jaw forward defiantly. "And I don't need your fuckin' attitude. This round is two-on-two and I'm not gonna loose because you're on some sort of power trip."

Whist scoffed and stepped back, holding his hands up defensively, "Whatever, just don't go thinking you're gonna get any sort of warm friendship fuzzies from me, I just want to get this the fuck over with."

"Yeah, I'm starting to feel the same way."

The two of them folded their arms and scowled in opposite directions across the hub, staring into the ring of people that had gathered to watch the fight. The patrons of the mall had become well aware of Whist and Zoro's reputation for an entertaining and relatively audience-safe battle, and therefore a significant mass of people had thronged to watch.

In a few moments the crowd parted with whispers and then applause as an old, regal man and a man wearing a baseball cap and holding himself nonchalantly entered the ring of spectators. The man with an impressive beard and robe nodded politely to the people that stepped aside, and seemed to carry with him a presence that filled the entire seven-story atrium even as he merely stood before them at ease, watching them pleasantly.

"Good evening," He said, "My name is Roku, I and my partner Sylar will be your opponents."

Zoro nodded. "You're the one that invited us to a formal meeting before the match, right? I appreciate that, not many people seem to have that same sense of honor." He sent a sidelong glance at Whist, who rolled his eyes and shifted his weight.

"Come on already," Whist muttered under his breath. "Let's just get this started."

Sylar smirked under the bill of his cap, and as Zoro and Roku shook hands and exchanged brief opening pleasantries he discretely raised a hand and drew it slowly sideways. For a moment Whist's body didn't know how to register what was happening, and then his forearm felt like it was on fire, and he became aware of the fact that his skin had _unzipped. _He swore massively and instinctively chucked a pair of shuriken at Sylar and Roku. Sylar used a pop of telepathy to re-direct the shukiken so it stuck harmlessly in the far wall, and Roku ducked beneath the flying disk with ease, but then looked up at Whist with a confusedly offended expression.

"What the hell, Whist!" Zoro snapped. "What was that for?"

Whist held his arm up and shook it in Zoro's face so the blood flecked his face. "_This _it why, you ass! They started it!"

"Oh real mature."

Roku looked away from their feud to eye Sylar, who had replaced his hands within his pockets, and stood looking at the floor disinterestedly, though the remnants of his smirk still lingered on his face. Roku pursed his lips and shook his head, already worried about the quality of the approaching fight.

"Well, it seems our partners are getting restless." Roku said, grabbing Zoro's attention from where he and Whist were starting to get in each others faces again. "Let's begin."

Zoro smiled, and then drew his three swords, clenching one in his jaw and the other two in his fists.

"Oh give me a break." Whist groaned, eyeing the sword in Zoro's mouth.

Zoro ignored him, nodded to Roku and then jumped in. He made several swift attacks, but all were evaded, and then he was suddenly buffered by a massive gale of wind that seemed to sprout from nowhere, and forced him to break off attacking merely to hold his stance. That draft was what saved Whist from losing his legs. Had he not seen the strange shifting of the wind, he might not have realized in time that there was something coming _towards _him, and jumped over it in time to save himself. By the look on Sylar's face when the bottom of the spiral staircase split instead of Whist's shins, Whist made a few quick connections and started to get a better idea of what he was up against. Just as he was getting ready to start an attack, a wave of flame danced into the wind, and his entire assessment of the battle faltered again as Zoro had to fall flat to the ground in order to avoid being scorched. Once there, he started to roll, using his low position as an advantage against Roku's buffer, and when he got close enough he tucked his legs and, mustering all the massive force stored in his muscles, rocketed himself at Roku.

The old man was surprised that the lankier man had that much strength in him, and his evasion fell short, earning himself a trim along his hair and his wind sputtered out. As Zoro landed the end of his attack, he saw Sylar's flank revealed as he looked around the mall for Whist, who had darted off to hide when the fire started, as it served as a convenient distraction. He made for the opening, all three blades aching for a hit; hoping to end this quickly before these two had a chance to use their incredible powers to their fullest extent. But just as he was drawing near Whist dropped in out of nowhere, aiming for the same opening, and neither could halt their momentum in time if they had bothered to try. Whist's foot snagged Zoro's ankle as he made to chuck a razor disk at Sylar and as they both tumbled to the ground his shot went wide and Zoro nearly dropped the sword from his mouth. Sylar spun around and swung an arm, and a blade of psychic energy shot forth, carving the floor in its path. The two of them split and rolled away just in time, Zoro jumping to his feet instantly and Whist scrambling up with a stream of foul words that were offensive even to Zoro's ears.

"What the fuck!" Zoro roared, as he jumped away from another psychic blade.

"What is your problem?" Whist snapped, slinging a blade at Roku, to keep him occupied.

"You jumped right in front of me!"

"I saw an opening and took it! It's not my job to make sure _you _are staying aware of your god-damn surroundings!"

"I _had _him! If you were a half-decent team-mate you would've never tried that damn stunt."

They kept moving as they bickered, trying not to give their opponents a stable a target, and to give themselves something to occupy them so as not to start fighting each other.

"Haven't you noticed yet?" Whist yelled, jumping on the top of an elevator momentarily to dodge over a new blade. "I'm not a fucking team player!"

Roku had stood by long enough, he raised his arms and suddenly a wave of fire that spread along the entire diameter of the hub manifested with a roar and rushed towards Whist and Zoro with crackling rage. Whist cried out and lunged for the spiral walkway, sprinting up it for dear life (though Roku had no intention of taking it) with Zoro not far behind. The wall of fire recoiled and swirled in on itself, rising in a twisting pillar to follow them in their retreat. Whist spouted a fresh curse with every bound as Zoro merely sprinted on silently, brooding about his unfortunate pairing.

"That's it." He finally grumbled, and then grabbed Whist by the arm and upon reaching the fourth level, jerked him down the hall, the fire rushing past a moment later.

"What?" Whist asked, moving in close to Zoro, challenging him with a wide-armed posture. "What do you want now?"

Zoro sheathed the sword in his mouth and scowled at Whist, clenching his fist and taking the goad, getting up in his face. "I'll tell you what I want—I want to win. And I can't do that if you're not going to act like a decent partner."

Whist shoved him, not seriously, just to release a little aggression. "Listen, jackass. I only have one partner, I don't fight with anyone else. It's me and him or nothing. Otherwise I can take care of it on my own. If you can't handle that then you step back and watch me work."

"Oh yeah?" Zoro snapped, sheathing his other two swords and shoving Whist back. "Then where the fuck is your partner, huh? Why isn't he here now?"

"Fuck you."

"Is that your only answer? Cause if so it sure as hell tells me a lot about why he might have abandoned you."

"You have NO idea—"

"Shut up Whist!" Zoro yelled, getting barely an inch from Whist's face. "I'm not gonna listen to it! If you wanna win this at all you'll suck it up and be a real man! Get some sense in that skull of yours and get back out there and fight _with _me!"

"No! No I don't have to give you shit. I haven't gotten by this long by blindly trusting people!"

"And you wont get any further if you don't start now!"

Whist paused, glaring straight into Zoro's eyes, as Zoro stared back firmly, wanting nothing more than to punch Whist in the jaw but knowing full well that he could never win alone. And there was a moral point to be made here, which falling into mindless violence would only dissolve.

"Why?" Whist asked, his voice deadpan.

"Why?" Zoro echoed, surprised that Whist seemed to be cooling slightly.

"Yeah, give me a good reason why I should give up my entire lifestyle just for this one little fight because _you _need me."

Zoro took a moment to search Whist's face, and then said firmly. "Because I don't think you've ever had anyone need you before. And I think it's about time you knew what that means." Whist raised his eyebrows, but held his tongue. "I don't know what happened to make your friend leave you, but I bet it has something to do with this selfish attitude of yours." Whist's teeth were grinding, but Zoro kept talking so long as the other kept his silence. "So, this isn't really about _me _Whist, it's about you. You can mean something to someone." He gripped Whist's shoulders. "I'm not gonna pretend to know you, but I can tell that right now, it's about time for you to change."

Whist had stopped his facial fidgeting, and was staring back at Zoro with an entirely unreadable expression. His face was blank, but it was painfully obvious that there was a torrent of thought going on just behind his glassy eyes. Finally, he blinked and walked past Zoro back towards the Atrium.

"Whist?" Zoro said, brow furrowed.

Whist looked back over his shoulder, and Zoro raised his eyebrows at the suddenly playful and yet sharply intense gleam in Whist's eyes.

"I'm not gonna stick my neck out for your ass if you're not gonna follow me out there." Whist quipped, and with a wide grin Zoro unsheathed his swords once more.

- - -

The avatar of the planet was happy to sit back and wait while his opponents took a brief intermission. He had no worry in his mind that he would win when they came back, and honestly after the intensity of his last two fights it was nice to relax under the knowledge that he was not fighting anyone who threatened the natural balance or who seemed particularly rancid in spirit. He could actually enjoy the simple fight this time around.

Except for his partner. He didn't trust the man, and found his strange powers disturbing, and the way he used them repulsive, but now was not the time to address that. If they won this round it was entirely likely he'd be facing Sylar soon enough, and then he could handle whatever strange threat he posed.

His opponent was currently heading up the walkway off of which Zoro and Whist had disappeared, searching the immediate areas of each floor to hunt down the elusive pair. He didn't even have to make it to the fourth floor, because just as he was walking back out to the ramp Whist and Zoro bolted out of the fourth-floor hallway and went sprinting down the walkway with enthusiastic cries of battle. Whist sent his disks ahead of them, stopping Sylar from attacking them on their way down; they rocketed past him, and Zoro leapt the last story to land just before Roku and began a whirlwind dance of metal. Roku evaded him easily, even with Whist throwing blades in the way of his retreat, trying to pin him into Zoro's attacks, but wind lifted Roku's feet, and knocked aside Whist's disks, and the ground seemed unwilling to support Zoro, trembling and rocking to try to unbalance him and keep him away from Roku. Zoro tried not to let it him effect him, tried to use his ship-legs to help maintain his balance so he could get some work done before Roku exploded with the force that was customary to him.

Unfortunately Sylar was back in long before Whist and Zoro could even make a scratch on Roku, and Whist had to jump down and roll under the walkway to avoid the cut of two psychic blades slicing towards him in hope of quartering him. Once underneath Whist clung to the underside of the walk and waited for a moment, listening to Sylar walk towards him, and then with one massive burst he swung around to the topside again, his left foot cracking hard against Sylar's jaw. He landed as Sylar was still reeling and launched two shurikens at him, one of which only served to tear the sleeve of his shirt but the other lodged into his shoulder and coaxed an anguished cry from his throat. The sound fueled Whist on, encouraging him to continue and take advantage of his brief moment of dominance, but across the hall there was suddenly a massive surge of energy and the crowd swarmed out of the atrium as Roku began to unleash his might.

"Aww shit." Whist grumbled.

He had underestimated Sylar's recovery time, and when he turned back from the one moment he had used to observe the swell of elemental wrath Sylar was facing him once more with a hand extended and suddenly Whist felt as though a massive steel hand had clamped around his torso, and with a small smirk from Sylar he was suddenly slammed against the wall. He barely had time to cry out in pain before Sylar jerked his arm again and he rose several stories and crashed into an elevator shaft. Sylar continued like this, chuckling maniacally as he tossed Whist around like a ping-pong ball.

Not far away Zoro was running almost in a panic to avoid the flame and air that rushed him, but his every step fell unsteady as the earth cracked the foundations of the mall and surged beneath him to shake him off. Zoro had never fought against the sheer will of the earth, and he found it an unpleasant thing indeed. He had never imagined air could _cut _or that fire could move with the fluid precision of a master craftsman, he felt that he was going to have to get desperate if things didn't change soon.

Roku was holding back as it was, he chose not tear the water from the mall's pipes in respect for it's owners, and he had no desire or need to seriously hurt Zoro, only defeat him, and he hardly needed his entire artillery for that. But that still didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it a little.

The wind twisted the metal rods of an elevator shaft, tearing it from the wall an bringing it creaking down towards Zoro's head, and he had to fall into an awkwardly balanced somersault to avoid it, even then getting his shoulder badly bludgeoned by the collision. He had scarcely found his feet when a tongue of flame swept over the debris and again he was forced into evasion, and felt the attack scorch the very top of his skin, as he once more made it through within an inch of his life. He was used to living like that; dancing on the edge of defeat or death, so that didn't perturb him, it was the total lack of ideas on how to get out of this situation that was frustrating. Something flew by overhead, and he ducked instinctively, only glancing up after it passed and was horrified to see Whist flopping like a ragdoll in the hands of some invisible beast. He had no time to help, however, because more fire was rolling in.

Whist felt completely broken. His bones were cracked, his skin split and his head was ringing terribly. He had already puked out his guts, and now the acrid taste stung the back of his throat much like the sting of helplessness that overwhelmed him. Things abruptly changed from head-splittingly fast to surrealistically slow, as his brain struggled to keep up with what was happening to his body. As he slammed into a new wall he lingered there for a moment, staring across at the crowd gathered at the mouth of a hallway, watching the fight with wide-eyed awe, murmuring and gasping and placing bets…all but one, the woman standing in the very front and watching him with a stony and regretful face. Li'ain seemed to stand somewhere between pitying him and enjoying watching him get his just desserts, and he felt a fresh twinge in one of the few places Sylar had not yet damaged.

He looked up at her, one eye swollen shut and his lips bleeding badly, and he looked into her icy eyes trying to convey something he didn't even totally feel or understand yet. She looked back, and he knew she was aware of the connection, but her expression didn't change, and as he was ripped from that wall and dropped lower and flung across the room again she didn't even have the decency to cringe. That pissed him off. Yeah, he had been an ass, but he had also been her protector and guide these past months she could at least _pretend_ to find his pain a little irking.

_Fuck this, then. _He thought, and dug his fingers into the cracks that had begun to riddle the walls under the force of the fiery hurricane that was swarming in the lower stories of the hub. When Sylar tried to pull him back once more he simply refused to go. He pitted his will against Sylar's, groaning and cursing with the effort as he felt as if his flesh was being seared apart under the strain. He had never had such an intense conflict of sheer will, no physicality involved, it was just down to whoever wanted it more. Then there was a flicker, and something roamed between them, riding the mental connection of their conflict and probing Whist's mind, grazing over his memories and conscious thought, into the core of his mind and settling to hover over that strange spot of his brain that, should it have manifested a physical form, would have been like a silver cord, reaching across brainwaves and emotions into another mind, one that was uncomfortably turned away at the moment. Sylar's conscious tried to ride the connection to it's other end, to really explore and grasp what it was and how the hell it had happened between two so different creatures, but Whist found the mere attempt to be the most appalling and unacceptable thing he had ever felt. That was a part of him that _no one _understood or let alone really knew of, to have someone within it, exploring it, like it was some kind of lab experiment was a perverted violation into his mind and it raped his soul. With a roar he felt his mental will explode and rip Sylar out, flinging him back into his body and _away_. As he did so the automatic repercussion was a thrum along the connecting string that touched the counterpart, but the symbiotic mind stayed quiet, and closed off. Whist had little time to grieve that, for he dropped to the top of an elevator and slumped there a moment, as flame rushed by just below, wind chopping pieces of the structure out and slowly crumbling the atrium. He looked up at Sylar, where he stood outside of the elemental torrent near the top of the spiral walkway, which was quickly crumbling into uselessness. In fact, as Whist jumped to it and charged up the walk practically shattered behind him to the point where he finally had to stomp the ground hard to power a flying tackle that took Sylar full in the chest and sent them both tumbling into the hallway of the seventh floor. While they were tumbling fists flew and thrashed, a senseless brawl that wouldn't allow Sylar to regain his composure and try to saw open Whist's skin again, and Whist lacked the distance advantage he could utilize with his razor disks. Honestly, though, Whist didn't mind. He was at the advantage here, where pure street instinct took over and all the special talents in the world didn't matter when you practically entangled in the other person and you hardly even knew where your hands were.

Whist swung his gauntlet-hand at Sylar's face and felt the satisfying crack of metal on skin, though it had fallen low and smacked his shoulder instead, then followed with a kick to…anywhere really, that landed solidly on his knee and badly skewed the joint. Amidst this Sylar scarcely had time to think, let alone concentrate on a psychic attack, and he was still jarred by the fact that Whist had resisted him. He wasn't used to not being able to manipulate someone's brain, much less to be ejected like that; it was truly unsettling, and so he remained stuck in the middle of the hallway, having a brawl the likes of which was seen in schoolyards around the world to lesser degrees but with the same style of head-first fist-pumping blind rage. Somewhere in Whist's brain he recognized this as a solid plan, to keep Sylar on the floor, in close-range combat where he had no time to use his psychic abilities, but what really kept him there was pure, animal instinct and the desire to knock his opponent's face in.

Sylar was mortified as he felt himself become weaker and start to lose control, his mind slipping under the physical strain. He didn't know what to do with himself, his limbs flailed wildly in a strained attempt to hit Whist _anywhere _and only succeeded in making it slightly more difficult for Whist to keep him pinned. They were a mass of simple, mindless old-school violence, and Whist felt adrenaline rushing into every inch of his body and rejuvenating him into an almost jittery mass of energy. But Sylar was reaching desperation, and in that he found his anchor, and caught on to it within his mind and finally with great cry he popped a massive psychic bubble between them and sent Whist flying off him. He immediately sent a follow-up slice through the air, which Whist had already expected and tumbled out of the way of.

"Not bad, but based on your performance in our little brawl I bet you couldn't even take a solid hit to the head." Whist smirked.

Sylar cracked his neck, and then lifted his hands and brought them down with a massive sweep and suddenly the walls of the hall were cracking and trembling as two massive blades of energy rushed for him in the shape of a deadly x. Whist gulped, crouched and then just as the force was near he launched up and somersaulted through the gap between two of the arms of the deadly shape. He crowed in joy as he followed up with a disk thrown hard towards Sylar's head. Sylar glared and deflected it upwards. When Whist's smile didn't fade he furrowed his brow and traced the razor disk's path and found it spinning to—and the next second clean through—the chain holding a light above his head. He felt a moment of shock and minor fear and then deflected the falling light fixture with ease, thinking as he bit his lip angrily that Whist was doing a frustratingly solid job of wasting his time. Of course when the rock-hard sole of Whist's shoe hit the back of his head he realized what exactly the skin-dyed boy's plan had been, but by the time he fully grasped it he was already fading into unconsciousness.

Whist allowed scarcely a breath to celebrate victory, for in the next moment a bolt of light flew down the shaft of the atrium only a few feet away, and he was brought again to the immediate task at hand. He went to the end of the hall and then paused, staring down at the bottom, which was now entirely burned out, and realized his only way down was a straight drop. Zoro was still somehow holding his own—or at least surviving. He was badly burned and looking half-dead but he was still standing and that was what counted. Of course, Roku still looked in peak condition and was bending the elements out of nothing all around him into fresh attacks and barraging Zoro relentlessly. He had to get down there. With a deep sigh he backed up several paces, took a disk in each hand and then sprinted full-tilt towards the opening and went flying with a massive shout. Zoro and Roku paused to look up and watch Whist collide with the wall across from him, hands first so the razors they held would dig into the wall and plant him there. Of course, his un-gloved hand suffered major cuts for it, but once he was there he could use the cracks and holes to climb down swiftly. Unfortunately he had had more faith in the wall's structural integrity than was wise, and when he was still three stories up his supports crumbled and he was suddenly tumbling down head-first.

It occurred to him as he was plummeting that this was a frustratingly stupid way to lose the match, and in those few seconds he managed to curse himself in many unsavory ways before he automatically tensed in anticipation of impact—but something significantly softer broke his fall and tumbled him mostly un-harmed to the ground. Groaning and rubbing his head he sat up slowly and look over at where Zoro, too, had been knocked flat by his rescue attempt. Whist shook his head; it felt strangely full of cotton balls, and in the back there was still that residual thrum.

"Thanks…" Whist murmured.

"I want to win too." Zoro replied nonchalantly, and then got once more to his feet.

Roku had paused during this display, mostly for the entertainment of watching them collide into each other, but now he raised his arms once more, and through the fresh-broken skylight a storm swept in, filling the hall with its wrath. Zoro and whist exchanged a glance as it first started to settle and then rise in intensity and both knew exactly what needed to be done. Almost in unison they turned and bolted down the nearest hall, running with a level of desperation that was probably exaggerated against Roku, but added to the spectacle as they stumbled over weakened legs with faces skewed in wide-eyed worry.

They dashed down the halls aimlessly, feeling the static of lightning and the spray of a pummeling gale right on their heels. They were both feeling the frustrated uncertainty of what to do next. How the hell were they supposed to face the forces of nature itself? How could they be expected to fight a storm? Apparently, there _was_ no way for suddenly, without even trying, the storm folded around them and they were enveloped in a tormenting monsoon. Rain lashed them so hard in nearly broke skin, and the wind buffeted them to their knees. Hail began forming, cracking on bones and growing significantly in size by the second.

The ground was rolling again, adding to their hopelessness. Any pride Whist had felt over defeating Sylar was lost now as the continually intensifying storm raged against him. He yelped as a small flicker of lighting brushed his skin, and Zoro struggled with all his might to find his feet—but his cause was hopeless. They were entirely lost. Suddenly the ground surged massively just below Zoro and as it re-settled it heaved over itself again and broke apart, opening a massive crevasse below Zoro, and with a shout he was pitching over—but did not fall. He looked up in shock to find Whist clutching his wrist and a slab of concrete that had been broken up from the rest of the floor to anchor himself as he pulled Zoro back with a grunt and heaving effort. Zoro had no time to thank him, as Roku had now stepped into the center of his storm, and suddenly Whist and Zoro couldn't even keep their feet on the ground, the wind was lifting them and trashing them around the hall in a fashion Whist had had quite enough of by this point, and as they were tossed about there was always the hail and rain to meet them like a million tiny daggers piercing their skin with un-deadly force but enough that eventually, all too quickly, they would be torn apart.

They were helpless, there was nothing they could do, though neither would ever give up for the sake of pure pride, but Whist could feel his spirits dying with every agonizing moment. There was no way out. They couldn't control their movements, couldn't get to Roku by any means, they wernet even entirely sure of his location. Whist grabbed a hold of a windowsill and latched on to try and stay still for a moment, and collect his thoughts, try to find something…anything…somewhere in the back of his mind there had to be a scheme that would help them. But the hail was raining harder, the lightning coming closer and more often, he'd be well tenderized and friend to a crisp by the time he could form a coherent sentence.

- - -

Roku stood at the eye of his storm, deep in the meditation of holding the massive thing together, and falling into the trance of it brought him deep calm and at the same time the biggest thrill he knew. He loved the beauty of bending like this, and indulged in the chance to utilize it. The storm grew continually; the hall it occupied was now a disaster zone as his storm began to reach hurricane levels. He could feel Whist and Zoro's mind within it, struggling to maintain consciousness, holding on to the last moment; but they had no idea how long it would take to reach that moment if they held on like they were doing. If they didn't surrender to the storm soon it could become permanently damaging.

Then he paused for a moment as he felt a vibration ripple through his storm, a strange disruption in his bending that unsettled him for only a moment and then he fell back into the pace again. But he could feel it, something more within his storm now, slinking low and coming close.

_Interference? _He wondered. He had thought them above trying to slip in a false move under what cover they could gain, but he had learned that all types roamed the world and put nothing past anyone.

He was ready to face it when it arrived, its pace was slow and by the time it crawled near enough to the eye to do any real damage Zoro and Whist may have well been passed out already, if it even lasted that long.

But then it disappeared. He knitted his brow in thought, trying to trace it, trying to make sense of how something could just blink out of existence and end up…right behind him. He spun around in a wave of fire but a pair of massive dog paws had already landed on him and then he and the newcomer were gone.

When he became aware of himself again he was looking at the mall from across the superhighway and the dog beside him thumped his tail twice and then with a whuff flickered out again.

Roku stood in thought for a moment, and then chuckled lightly and began his walk back.

- - -

"Sylar has fainted and Avatar Roku is Out of Bounds! The match goes to WHIST AND ZOROOOOOOOO!!"

The crowd was roaring with appreciation for the upset victory; having never thought anyone capable of defeating a master like Roku and a fiend like Sylar. Zoro accepted his congratulations politely, if a little uncomfortably, while Whist ignored his admirers to gush over Blink.

"Good boy, I'm sorry. You awesome, amazing, wonderful dog!" He fussed, rubbing Blink's neck and shoulders rigorously, garnering a heavily thumping tail and a few happy yaps of appreciation.

Upon Blink's return there had been a flash of communication between them that had said it all; the apologies and explanations—the acceptance. Always, between them, there was unconditional acceptance. They had wavered briefly, but when Sylar's probing had set off a tremble along their connection Blink had become aware in his animal way of the words Zoro had said that had seared under Whist's skin and brought incredible guilt and shame into Whist's mind. Once he had known Whist had had a little sense knocked in him, he was ready to return.

Whist stood when Zoro approached. "Good fight." He said, holding out a hand.

Zoro took his hand with a breathless laugh. "It's all thanks to that dog of yours." He smiled broadly. "It was a damn good fight though."

Whist grinned and released Zoro's hand. Zoro headed off to the medic almost immediately after that, and Death by Chocolate heavily encouraged Whist to do the same; but Whist had seen pair of unmistakable blue eyes through he crowd and searched them out again desperately, but Li'ain was already long gone, and after a few more minutes of seeking her out Whist had to acknowledge that she did not wish to be sought and grudgingly let Death by Chocolate take him to the medical wing.

**I had to pull a hellaz all-nighter to write this, and after that intense Kyuubi chapter it really took a lot of will power. Either way i'm pretty damn proud of it, and hope you enjoyed. I had no idea about Roku's and Sylar's characters, and only a ague knowledge of Zoro, and i wish i had managed to show off Zoro a bit more, but overall I'm happy with this end result!**


	7. Interlude 3

**Ok, here's the thing. Whist lost last round (understandably, my opponent was high class) so the official story is Roku actually realized what Blink was doing just in time, avoided the touch, and then finished off Whist and Zoro quickly before the dog could try again. I'm writing this interlude from that point on.**

Whist opened his eyes slowly, wincing and moaning as the battle caught up to him. He sat up slowly, finding himself in an infirmary, with Zoro on the bed nearby. The room was a huge, utilitarian affair, with plain white walls and linoleum floor, with a bleach-white cot every ten feet along the wall; a good several of which also held the losers of the last round. The light from the windows that lined the opposite wall was diffused through the entire room by the dull reflection of the waxed floor, giving it a gloomy afternoon feel. Blink dozed at the foot of his bed, and with a small smile Whist leaned forward to scratch behind his companion's ears. He may have lost the fight, but he felt a far more important victory had been won. Blink opened his eyes for a moment, whuffed happily and then snuggled closer to Whist. As Whist gave Blink an affectionate rub-down his mind wandered over the battle, and slowly settled on the memory of Li'ain, standing on that ledge watching him coldly—he wondered if she had worried about him at all after he passed out. He scoffed and shook his head. It didn't matter anyway, he didn't need her, he would just shrug her off his back and head out on his own once this was all over anyway. But then…it was all over now, wasn't it? He didn't have a shot at the prize money or the wish anymore, and that was the only reason he was fighting to begin with.

"What do you think Blink?" Whist said. "Time to call it a day? Let our next opponent have an easy round and leave this god-forsaken tournament?"

Blink grumbled uncertainly and Whist sighed deeply, wrapping his arms around the dog's bulky hide in a bear hug.

"Yeah…I don't know either."

He heard a moan and looked over to see Zoro stirring in the next bed, he sat up as well, and Whist was glad to see that Zoro was as magically healed as he was, and Whist for a brief moment wondered how that kind of healing was possible. But he discarded the wonder from his mind almost immediately, he was no stranger to surreal things, he merely shrugged it off as yet another one of them.

"How ya feeling?" Whist asked.

Zoro grimaced and rubbed his forehead. "Like I got hit in the head with a canon ball." He said, obviously still feeling the internal effects of the battle, much like Whist. "What about you?"

Whist shrugged. "I've had worse…much worse."

Zoro nodded. "Not a bad set up they've got here, eh?"

Whist shrugged again, truly apathetic about the wonders of their magical technology. "I s'pose…hey, listen—"

"If you're gonna give me some crap about apologizing for the way the battle turned out, don't even start. It was a good fight, but that guy is just way too powerful, we were lucky do as well as we did."

Whist raised his eyebrows. "Hell no I wasn't gonna apologize. I came the closest to actually winning that fight anyhow."

Zoro stared at him a moment, and then burst out laughing, prompting Blink to join the ruckus with howls and barks of his own. Whist smiled and leaned back, waiting calmly until a nurse came in a shouted at Zoro and the Blink to stop disturbing the other patients or she would hang them both upside down over the vat of angry narwals in the aquarium. She was a formidable woman, being a demon made of wood and rock as she was, and the trouble-makers grudgingly obeyed.

"What I _was _gonna say," Whist said, after she had left. "Was thank you. And before you give me any 'aww you shouldn't have' crap you better know that I don't hand out phrases like that lightly, so you damn well better appreciate it."

Zoro turned so he sat with his feet dangling over the side of his bed, looking at Whist curiously. "What're you thanking me for?"

Whist laughed softly, shaking his head at himself. "For having some damned common sense, and letting me borrow it for a while."

Zoro nodded slowly, taking in Whist's statement with a small smile. "Anytime."

Zoro left the hospital soon after, but Whist was asked to remain for a short while, until they could be sure there was no mental damage done from his encounter with Sylar. Whist waited patiently, being exhausted as he was, and in no hurry to get back into action, and let the nurses run their strange devices by his head and scribble on their clipboards, and murmur things about how his brainwaves were very strange and hard to read and then shuffle off to examine the results of whatever odd test they had just conducted. Whist accepted the ensuing boredom with a heavy sigh, letting the moment of calm seep into his bones and restore him. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, one hand still scratching Blink's ruff, half-dozing but keeping his ears alert for the nurse's return and any further announcements about the tournament. There was talk of Kyuubi and Orochimaru whispered from every mouth as the other patients were visited and talked amongst themselves. Whist had not yet met either of the demonic creatures being discussed, but the more he heard, the more he considered it a blessing. As was, he realized, the fact that Roku had not caused him a hell of a lot more damage. Besides the evil rage of Kyuubi, nothing was more common chatter than the man who posed probably Kyuubi's only real threat. As he heard talk of people with strange powers even _he _hadn't heard of and the reputed power of gods, he began to realize just how big this thing actually was, and how much more intense the next round was likely to be. Running away and cutting his losses was sounding better and better.

He heard heels clicking by briskly, and opened one eye to watch Massie Block, with bruises still showing on the exposed skin of her midriff and shoulder, stalk by with her nose in the air and her leering gaze cast sideways at Whist. Whist smirked and blew her a kiss, to which she rolled her eyes, made an exaggerated gagging motion, and stormed out. His little scare-tactic hadn't worked at all; her ego had recovered quite nicely. Li'ain didn't have to throw such a fit after all.

_Speak of the devil… _Whist though, as Li'ain crossed paths with Massie at the door, and stepped inside the infirmary. She looked around briefly, but Whist was never hard to pick out, and she walked over to him briskly, her expression stony. Whist felt his amused smirk fade instantly into a scowl as she approached his bedside, stopping rigidly at his shoulder and looking him over with cold consideration.

"You lost…" She said, blankly.

Whist laughed without smiling, narrowing his eyes at her. "I'm _so_ sorry I don't have the arsenal to defeat a guy with the fucking _planet _on his side_. _Next time I'll be sure to keep my store of infinite power on hand."

Li'ain stared at the floor, her jaw tense, her eyes lackluster. Whist rolled his eyes and folded his arms as Blink whimpered pleadingly, moving his morose gaze from Li'ain to his sulking master.

"I figured you never wanted to see my face again. What the hell brings you here?" Whist asked, tilting his head curiously, wondering if he could make eye contact, stare her down. She was purposefully avoiding his gaze, glancing downwards at an angle towards the shining linoleum. The fuzzy reflection of sunlight limned the curves of her cheekbones and the slender slope of her nose, and not for the first time Whist was struck by how, even in the most frustrating of conflicts, she had a cold poise that was hauntingly beautiful. It made him even angrier, to have his thoughts wander down that path, and just the plain fact that she was lovely irritated him on some childish level.

"If it's any comfort to you, I won't make you stick around." Whist grumbled, looking away finally. "I'm sure you can find a job in this massive place."

"I just…wanted us to get the money," Li'ain sighed. "I wanted us to have the chance to start something really worthwhile…"

Whist straightened. "Excuse me? _Us? _Li'ain, I don't know what misconceptions you've got about me, but there was never any _us. _We were two separate people doing our own thing for own gains. That was always the agreement, and I am truly sorry if the past few months have made you feel like anything else was building there."

Li'ain looked up at him, her lips poised to spit a curse, but instead trembling silently, the rest of her face as stone cold as ever. For a moment, her eyes sharpened, and then she loosened her tense shoulders and turned on her heel to stalk away.

"Hey!" Whist called after her, and she paused but didn't look back. "If you're gonna keep making a big show of storming out like that, don't bother coming by at all from here on. We on our own paths now, I'd prefer it if they stopped crossing."

Li'ain took another step forward, and then turned halfway, looking back at him with a blank stare. "That's fine, Whist. You can go on and scurry back to some rat-hole and keep living life in your own way. You never change. You make no great success or failure you just keep surviving right? Go on, drop out, your other opponents will be better off for never knowing you."

Whist leapt from his bed, and would have jumped at Li'ain had Blink not bitten his hand with just enough force to keep him there and bring back some sense. Whist and Li'ain held each other's gaze unblinkingly, chilling hatred seething from both parties, locked in a staring contest that expressed on some animal level the emotional rage their words were not expressing. Finally Whist scoffed and sat back on his bed, folding his arms and grinding his teeth so fiercely it could clearly be heard through the room.

"I'm staying in this tournament Li'ain. And just you watch, I won't lose again." He hissed.

Li'ain shrugged. "As you will." She said coolly, and was gone.

Whist lay back down, and he got the distinct impression he had flunked an important lesson somewhere within that conversation.


	8. Whist vs Angel Round 4

Whist vs. Angel

Whist left the infirmary not long after his interaction with Li'ain, and went out to grab a drink before his next round began. He sat at the bar of a small tavern that was nestled on the first floor next to an Irish gift-shop, and poured himself a beer, not really worried about impairing himself with just one drink; he had a high tolerance and honestly even with the haughty comment he had made to Li'ain he had once more started to care less and less about winning any more rounds.

His next opponent was a mystery to him, he hadn't heard much about her besides that she had been among many to suffer against Kyuubi, but that told him very little about her—indeed, she could still very well be inhumanly strong and completely overwhelming; losing to Kyuubi meant nothing. He threw back another gulp of beer, draining half the glass, and then turned to Blink.

"What do you think, boy? What kind of chick do you think this 'Angel' is?" He asked, running a finger along the rim of the cup absently.

Blink whimpered and then huffed a sigh, settling back on his haunches with an apathetic glaze on his eyes. Whist wasn't particularly riled up at the moment, so Blink felt relatively calm about the whole situation, Whist was unlikely to get himself in too deep this round, depending on the opponent, so Blink had little to worry about.

"Eh, maybe she got the name for being merciful or something, could be our lucky day…" Whist mused.

"Don't count on it."

He looked up curiously at the far end of the bar, and noticed for the first time that he was not the only one sitting there. Around the corner of the bar sat a small, fluffy pink creature, her head barely visible above the bar line, drinking a fruit juice and looking at him stonily.

"I'm angel, you're next opponent, you must be Whist." She said, hopping lightly onto the bar and walking down to offer him her hand.

"And you…have got to be joking." Whist said, chuckling.

Angel lowered her hand with a scowl and folded her arms. "No. I'm not. I'll have you know I'm a master of—"

"But you're so _cute_!" Whist cackled, and Blink wuffed appreciatively, thumping his tail in rhythm to his master's mirth. Angel glared at him as he bit his lip and clenched a fist, trying to contain his amusement.

"I've won just as many rounds as you, you know." She snapped.

"I know, I know, I'm sure you're a very powerful…" He looked up, met her gaze, two beady eyes simmering out from fringe of pink fur, and burst out laughing again.

Angel waited a few more moments, tapping her foot continually faster, in keeping with the volume of Whist's howling, her jaw grew consistently tighter, her temple began to throb, until finally, when it was quite obvious he would not finish anytime soon, she leapt at him with a cry of rage and knocked him off his chair. Blink instantly sprung to his feet and barked angrily, but she had already grabbed Whist's wrist and flipped him around and into the bar. When he opened his eyes, rubbing his throbbing forehead, he was staring down the barrel of a buzzing laser gun.

"You're lucky the match doesn't start for another hour, buddy." She spat. "I'll see you then." With that she lowered the gun and bounded out of the bar, Blink growling at her as she left.

Whist sat up with a moan and rubbed the back of his neck, rolling his shoulders and wincing as he felt what would certainly be a new bruise in very little time. He rubbed Blink's neck as the beast snuggled against him comfortingly, whimpering consolation.

"Well, boy," Whist said with a long exhale. "It seems I'm just not getting off on the right foot with the ladies here." He winced as he touched his busted lip. "We my have a problem."

Blink merely barked and whapped his tail against his master's side until his ears were scratched.

- - -

An hour later Whist stood at the base of the Ferris Wheel, in the same atrium where he had won his first battle, the roller coaster was only a few feet away, the memory of victory helped encourage him a little after the rough defeat the day before. He sipped from a bottle of water as Blink chewed on the last of a steak Whist had nabbed for him. A few people wandered by, some gathered at the perimeter, curious as to how the strange multi-colored man would use the set this time, but there was far fewer spectators than normal. This was one of the last fights of the day, and most of the spectators were exhausted from a day of intense stress and increasingly dangerous situations for them, and they were becoming far less willing to put themselves in the line of possible pain and suffering. The patronage of the mall had decreased massively in general, and truthfully Whist didn't blame them one bit.

At any rate, he had been waiting there for some time but didn't feel the need to search Angel out. He didn't care to try and complicate things by creating a chase or one of those infuriating stealth-mode stand-offs, she could come to him. He may have been taken off guard by her strength when he first met her, but now that he was aware of what her abilities were, he was once more confident that a small furry pink alien could pose little threat. But she also could not, apparently, have the decency to arrive on time.

Whist let out a long groan and shifted his weight. "Ugh, I'm nice enough to offer a clean, easy, face-to-face match and she still has to go and make a big deal about the opening suspense…god, I am so sick of theatrics. Why can't anyone just kick the shit out of each other?" Blink groaned his sympathetic but equally confused response and licked Whist's hand affectionately. "Eh, well, she can wait as long as she wants, I really don't give a damn, let's go for a ride, eh boy?"

He patted Blink's head and then entered one of the carriages, tossing a coin at the 'on' button to start the Ferris wheel after he and his dog were inside. He sat down with huff, and Blink curled up by his feet. As the wheel made its first round Whist leaned against the side, staring out through the bars at the massive picture windows that lined the upper half of the surrounding walls, through which the dark gold and crimson light of the setting sun was streaming, giving the entire almost-abandoned amusement park setting a warm, calming wash. It was almost possible to forget he was in the middle of an increasingly dangerous tournament, and for a moment he let that fantasy engulf him and let himself imagine he had found, for just and brief second, a quiet, private nook that required no distress on his part.

But that fantasy was quite ruined by the base of the Ferris Wheel exploding. Whist instantly pushed the indulgence far out of his mind to replace it with panic as fire and debris flew by his window and he began a creaking plummet towards the ground.

Several stories below, Angel discarded the used detonator and folded her arms with a sigh and roll of her eyes. Whist was a damn fool to have thought that Angel was avoiding him without any reason beyond drawing out the suspense. First he had underestimated her strength, and then her intellect; as much as she hated the way people in this tournament were regarding her, it did have its advantages.

"Oh, Whist…I almost wish it had taken longer to prove you so very wrong." Angel said.

"Don't worry bout that, it generally does take a while to out-smart me."

Angel's eyes bulged as she spun to her left to see Whist sitting on the bench there, his dog resting his muzzle on his knee and panting in satisfaction. Whist had a twisted smirk on his face, and he slowly stood, patting a light dusting of debris off his pants.

Angel clenched her jaw, and prepared to spring. She had been informed about his dog's teleportation powers, but hadn't believed that he could have the split-second timing needed to avoid the unavoidably devastating destruction of the Ferris wheel. She wished she had wired the explosives through the entire wheel, but that would have most likely killed him off. In the end it seemed Whist wasn't the only who's underestimations of his opponent has caused more problems than necessary. This fight was looking to become extremely messy…but she could work with that.

With a shriek she lunged at him, and Whist was so taken aback by the abrupt and entirely rash move that his only reaction was to knock her away and over his shoulder so she hit the ground and slid under the bench Whist had just been sitting on. Whist spun around, ready to trap her in the tight quarters but he and Blink had to almost immediately turn back and sprint for some protection from the volley of bullets that was rattling out from beneath the bench.

They ducked behind a large piece of the collapsed Ferris wheel just as the bullets stopped. Whist waited a moment, and then ventured a peek over the edge of his guard, only to see Angel tossing aside the handgun she had just emptied in order to scoop up a new one out of a potted plant. He swore and ducked down again, narrowly missing having his ear shot off. Angel sprinted up the pile of rubble, springing into the air and bearing down on him with a shrill war cry. With a massive curse, Whist grabbed Blink firmly by the neck and disappeared just before Angel collided with the ground where he had been sitting, bullets flying to all angles.

She cut off the torrent with a scowl, growling softly in frustration. This was getting infuriating already, if he kept pulling this trick she would get seriously angry. There was no way she would let this keep up. She shot off again, calculating her possibilities as she went. One option open to her was of course asking one of her cousins for help, but she had already determined that she would do this on her own. She was here to prove her own strength, and that was far more important than money or favors. But she was by no means limited by that decision. As she reached the base of the roller coaster she dumped the handgun for a plasma gun that was tucked behind one of its support beams. She had planted dozens of high-tech weapons around the amusement-park area, so she had plenty of options hiding around the battleground; it was just a matter of what she wanted to do. First though, she had to get a good idea of the lay of the land with the newly collapsed Ferris wheel and to re-assess where all her weapons were waiting and where Whist could be hiding. She climbed the roller coaster to the top point to get a full view; she didn't imagine Whist would be that hard to find, he wasn't exactly subtle. Sure enough, he wasn't even pretending to be on the defense. Suddenly two metal disks were pelting at her from the peak of the roller coaster just across from her, and she spun to face him instantly.

"You ready to face me for real now, Whist?" She called.

Whist cocked an eyebrow. "This _is_ how I fight for real, my little angel. Now, what else you got? Give it you all, I'm curious about what you can do."

Angel smirked, and then suddenly spun around to the under side of the coaster and grabbed a long weapon which she then aimed through the rails at Whist and fired instantly. The harpoon exploded from the gun shaft—and missed. Whist and Blink were both totally unharmed. But separated. And that was when Angel laughed and shouted smugly;

"Curiosity killed the cat!"

Then she fired three charges, the last two for good measure, and watched closely as they exploded and then simmered down, smoking and hissing so massively for a moment she could not see the results, but when it cleared she was satisfied to see the mangle of melted metal framework and no sign of activity. She slowly sighed out the breath she had been holding, but then it caught, as she looked down and saw Whist perched precariously on the extremely narrow ledge directly below the section Angel had just blasted away.

"Good thing I'm not a cat!" Whist called up to her, and then Blink jumped to him and upon collision they winked out once more.

Angel spent the next moment simply _fuming _at the unfairness of the situation. That should have been the winning blow, and even with his extremely rash split-second decision to simply _drop _out of range the chance of him catching that ledge was slim to none. Sometimes she really hated lucky people.

In the moment following she felt the sudden rush of a presence immediately behind her, and she ducked down just in time to miss the violent swing of Whist's heavy gauntlet towards her head. After falling low and losing her grip on her weapons in the jolt of the drop, she shot her legs out behind her, striking him in the shins not hard enough to knock him over but enough to make him stagger and giving her time to scramble down the pipe-work of the roller coaster and lunge for her gun again. Whist was on her heels, and just as she snatched the gun he was bearing down on her, and she had to forego it once more to defend herself.

But she didn't stay on the defense for long. Soon enough she had Whist struggling to hold her off, as she kicked and jabbed sharply around all his defenses. Her agility was far past what Whist could muster up, and he was no stranger to swift, close-quarter movement, but her size and pure programmed instinct gave her that extra edge Whist just didn't have. He was soon reduced to merely keeping his guard up and Angel away from anywhere she could actually do real harm, his only advantage was his much greater range for his limbs, but as it stood he only had the room and time to use that to keep her a distance. Blink was still disoriented from the explosion, and wandered slowly near them, his brain coming back to him, but to any degree where he could really start doing some damage. She was using her height as an advantage to an extent that hardly left any disadvantage to exploit. She kept Whist crouched low, curling in on himself to be able to block her low blows and block any gaps in his guard that would normally be too minute to use, but because of her stature she could have easily abused.

_Shit._ Whist thought as Angel flipped clean over him, smacking the side of his head with her foot on the way over. _I need some distance…but then she'll just use one of those damned guns again…I'm screwed from any distance._

She landed a punch to one of the nerves on his inner thigh as she ducked between his legs, and even in his state of frustration he felt a rush of appreciation of the fact that she had not hit slightly more to the left. Even so, his leg buckled, making him loose his balance, and he had to check himself on the side of a bench, during which Angel slid under his arm and jabbed hard into the cluster of nerves just beside his armpit. With the overwhelming power she had backing the strike Whist felt the entire arm spasm and go numb, the jolt of pain spreading across the whole span of his shoulders and the only thing he could think of doing in the moment while stars were flashing across his eyes was make a mental shout to Blink and then dash away for as much distance as he could get. Blink found him in a second, his mind immediately focused upon his master's distress, and when Whist dropped his good hand to the beast's shoulder they were gone again.

This time Angel felt much less frustration at the fact. She had control of this battle now, and she really doubted he was sharp enough to turn it around; she smiled and clapped her hands, unable to contain the mirth of oncoming victory. She grabbed the plasma gun and a few extra weapons and went out for the hunt.

- - -

Whist and Blink ducked into the store they had reappeared outside off upon blinking a few meters down on of the many side hallways branching off from the Amusement park hub. It was a clothing store, one that was trying laughably hard to be edgy and rebellious, with fishnet and studs dotting every item of clothing and the accessories were almost entirely body jewelry and heavy chains. He and Blink took refuge in the back corner, beside a wall of posters depicting several men, all scowling and heavily decorated, with so much eyeliner they were practically in blackface. Whist had little time to smirk at the ridiculousness of it all, his arm was still tingling and hard to control, and he could feel Blink's weariness—all that teleportation was wearing him down, he had maybe one extremely short-range jump left in him, and then he would be out for a long time.

"If you can give me that, I'll make it count." Whist said, rubbing Blink's scruff firmly. Blink made no noise or movement, but the signal was in Whist's mind loud and clear—Blink was there to give him whatever he needed, one hundred percent, no questions asked.

"What would I do without you?" He said, and then with a deep sigh got back to his feet and started to make a miracle.

- - -

Angel had inspected two of the half-dozen connecting halls with no luck, but she had expected that—Whist was obviously the one with all the luck in this match. But luck was arbitrary and unreliable, he couldn't rely on it forever, and she was patient enough to bide her time until it ran out. As she walked down the third hall, she felt that time had come. Amid a shop that consisted of almost exclusively black and other dark colors a splotch of bright blue, purple and red easily caught her hair as it passed between aisles. It was a small store, nice and cramped, good for her close-range combat and also served to restrict Whist's dodging range. With a grin she fired a fresh plasma blast and cooed in excitement as it melted an entire rack of clothing and garnered a new curse from Whist as he dodged to a fresh hiding spot behind the metal cashier counter. Angel pulled the trigger once more—and moaned and grumbled when the gun emitted the high whining noise that signaled a lack of sufficient energy to continue firing. She was sure she had charged it just that evening…but it didn't matter, she was using it just for the fun of watching things explode, she was here to prove her martial skills not that she could pull a trigger.

She bolted into the shop, giving Whist no time to slip away and leapt to the top of the counter, immediately springing off and on top of Whist, pummeling him and spinning around what defenses he could manage to throw up against the sudden onslaught. He had learned, that was certain, his body was much tighter than before, but she had that infamous experimental strength behind every blow and even when she hit only Whist's forearms and shoulders she came near to cracking bones and planted deep bruises into his muscles. Whist was slowly backing up, but she kept him on a path away from his dog—whom she now saw was lying near the back, completely exhausted. She had Whist just how she wanted him, cornered and all out of luck. He was backing up towards a wall, he had only a few steps until there was nowhere left to go, no distance to fall into to absorb her blows and lighten the impact. She was ready to end it. She fell down low and landed a sharp kick to his ankle, twisting it badly and sending him toppling over towards the wall full of sharp, solid metal accessories. Whist's cry was not nearly as distraught as she would have liked. In fact, it sounded like—a signal. She looked up just as Blink heaved himself forward one last time, bounding the few meters to his master's side as Whist's hands slapped against the wall and then he popped out again. Angel had no time to make and curse the assumption that he had run again before she felt the cold metal chain suddenly wrap around her and jolt her backwards.

She was slammed onto her back and Whist grabbed another chain and twisted it around her and the previous chain, finally fastening them together around a thick pillar with the heaviest padlock she had ever seen. As this happened she rethought the few moment before with a newfound and almost insulting clarity. Blink had been in his position not out of weakness but to carve Angel's path towards the wall of chains, where Whist would then teleport with a chain in hand not in the way Angel would expect to somewhere far from harm, but merely to the opposite side of her—so close she would never have time to make the connection and stop it. She would have kicked herself for being so clumsy had Whist not been wrapping yet another chain around her legs so they, too were immobilized.

"Don't you think that's enough chains already?" She grumbled.

Whist looked up at her incredulously. "Are you kidding me? With how strong you are I'm taking no chances."

He locked that chain and then pulled a new one down, continuing in this vein until Angel was cocooned tightly in a thick casing of metal links so rigidly that she could hardly squirm one paw into any sort of movement. She was aware that they were in a pocket where no video cameras could see them, which even in her predicament made her happier, this way Stitch wouldn't come running to help her, and she could get out of this on her own, and assure him she was all right after the fact. Whist exhaled in a puff, and then sat down with his back to the pillar, looking down at Angel with a small smirk.

"All right, here's how I see it," He said lightly, "right now, I'm exhausted and you're trapped. Where could this possibly go, right?"

"If you're suggesting I surrender you can just keep dreaming. I won't give in to you, these things won't hold me forever and—"

"Oh, I don't expect them to." Whist sighed heavily. "I was hoping you wouldn't be like this but….since you're so stubborn…" He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair, ruffling the short ends absent-mindedly; still distracted by the new haircut. "You're pretty much indestructible right?"

"Ih." She said, scowling sternly.

"Ok, then I've got two options…" Whist heaved himself back up to his feet and walked over to a shelf of assorted decorations, one of which was a large stone skull, which he rested his hand on. "One is to inflict blunt trauma to your skull until you pass out." He tapped a finger on the skull, Angel gulped. "And the other…" He walked away a few paces and tested the fabric of a t-shirt. "Is to smother you into the same result." He turned back to face her fully again, his hands on his hips. "Since it's your suffering I figured I'd play the gentleman and let you pick."

"You wouldn't." She hissed, sticking out her chin. "That's too cruel."

Whist narrowed his eyes. "What makes you think I'm not cruel?"

"That's torture, that's…inhuman."

Whist let a small chuckle escape. "I gave up my humanity a while ago. Listen, to you, this is just another fighting competition. To me, this match proves that I'm right, and she's wrong. And I'm just petty enough to stoop to whatever level I need to in order to get that."

Angel fumbled a new argument, staring into his stony gaze in utter disbelief. After a moment of the staring contest Whist rolled his shoulders and walked back over to the shelf.

"If you have no input, bashing it is…" He hoisted the skull in one hand and started towards her.

She stared him down as he approached slowly, watching his grip on the skull and his pace for any sign of hesitation, but he was steady, determined, and his expression was—if it could be said to be showing any emotion at all—only amused.

"I really think this might be the more painful alternative, but—oh well." Whist said, standing over her. "Maybe next time you'll speak up."

Angel just glared at him, and he held the gaze a moment, his stare impassive and then he raised the skull high in the air, directly and steadily above Angel's revealed and restricted head. And it descended.

"I GIVE!"

He widened the arc at the last minute and the stone skull hit the ground just behind her head, clipping the back of her skull but not compacting with it at full velocity, and she laid quivering at the knowledge that had she not shouted at the last moment he would have really done it. She would have expected that from Kyuubi but not someone like this, a human boy not so different from her ohana back in Hawaii. She looked up at him with wide-eyed horror as her loss was broadcasted over the speaker, somehow known by Death even without the cameras, and he gave her not a single glance more but simply unlocked her chains and left, Blink bounding beside him.

Outside he took a few steps and fell to his knees, and brought his trembling hands up to his face as he laughed shakily in utter relief. Blink sat panting beside him, equally relieved and more quickly calmed afterwards. Whist swallowed his nerve-heaved bile and patted Blink's head heavily.

"That was one of the most intense bluffs I've ever pulled, huh boy?" He murmured, thinking about how close he had come to her skull, one breath away from altering the course on his own. With a shudder he pulled himself back to his feet and smiled at Blink. "Only one more round, boy."

After that the two of them walked off to get back to the infirmary and mend the damage Angel had dealt.

**Hey, so I hope I got Angel's personality down well. I knew I didn't give her much character in her fight vs. Kyuubi so I thought this would be a good chance to rectify that. Hope you enjoyed!**


	9. Vs Wolfwood

Whist Vs. Wolfwood

FINAL ROUND

His vision blurred and a light flashed before his eyes, as pain ripped through his body once more. With a sigh hissing between his clenched teeth Whist leaned back again and waited for the nausea to subside. His hand was pressed firmly against the gaping hole in his side that was slowly and steadily oozing blood. Blink lapped at the wound with a soft whine, his helplessness filling him with anxiety and fear, they had been hiding here for a long time, and Whist's wound had not stopped bleeding, and barely slowed. Whist had the terrible feeling that his life was literally slipping through his fingers, to lie in a massive puddle beneath him, useless and cold.

- EARLIER -

Whist sat at the window-bar of a coffee shop and watched the crowds mull through the mall whispering in excitement, debating who would be victorious at the end of the day, who would make the biggest fool of themselves, who would take their breath away or make them cry, everyone had become so enthralled with this tournament they had started to completely forget that lives were at stake. To them, it was one big show. Whist merely snorted and wondered how long that magical sense of detachment would last after one of them found a stray bullet or blade in their belly. Beside him Blink groaned to express his boredom and chewed at an inch on his foreleg.

"We'll be done soon." He murmured, and gulped down what was left of the coffee he had ordered. "Then we can back to our lives."

He had been in this mall too long, his feet were itching for the road, and he ached for the freedom, especially now that it would be like the old days, just him and his dog. He took another gulp of coffee to fill the hollowness he denied feeling at that sentiment. When he lowered the mug again he paused, and then tightened his grip.

Across the hall in shop for hiking and other road-heavy traveling was an all too familiar face, chatting with some outdoorsy fellow about boots and backpacks. He slammed the mug and the counter and scowled, a hand thoughtlessly running through and tugging the odd lengths of hair that still felt foreign after their recent cut. Blink looked up at him and whuffed, but was ignored as Whist's teeth began to grind. With an offended grunt Blink stood and loped out the door, across the hall and into the shop Li'ain occupied.

Whist didn't immediately comprehend Blink's destination, and was disinterested enough not to notice until the dog appeared at Li'ain's side, yapping brightly until she patted his head. Whist bolted out the door so abruptly he was out the door before his mug had shattered on the ground. He stalked into the store and up to Blink, grabbing the dog by the scruff roughly and glaring at Li'ain.

"Haven't you left yet?" He asked.

"Didn't you not want to see me anymore?" She replied, cold as ice.

The man Li'ain had been talking to made some fake excuse and scooted away, wisely deciding this was an encounter he'd rather not be in the middle of.

"I just came to get Blink." He said, patting the dog.

"Since when do you need to come find him?"

Whist set his jaw and looked away, doing his best to control himself, but quickly loosing his cool. And yet he stayed.

"Is there anything else you have to say?" Li'ain asked.

"Is there something you expect me to say?" He replied.

"Well, you are just standing there. I assumed you would be in a hurry to get away from me unless you have something to say."

"No," Whist shook his head. "Nothing to say."

Whist turned to walk away, and Li'ain went back to examining the boots. Whist took a step, and then turned sharply, stalking up to her side.

"No. No, I have something to say." He snapped, leaning forward so he could get his face close to hers. "You don't know me."

"Thank god."

"No—fuck you—listen. You have no idea, who I am or where I came from and why I do the things I do. So you need to get the fuck off your high horse and admit that you have some serious fucking problems and I'm the only person to put up with it for more than an hour that you didn't have to pay. So, I think you owe me an apology for the way you've been treating me."

Li'ain looked over at him, calmly and then laughed a single, harsh note. "Really? Are you really going to be this much of an idiot? You, the man who's so awful his only friend is a dog, are telling me that I don't treat people right? I don't owe you anything. You have been nothing but sarcastic, cold and cruel to me, and all to preserve whatever image it is you think you have. I don't think you know who you are, Whist. You're…nothing. You're just a leaf in the breeze, wandering pointlessly and not making a single difference in the world."

"I SAVED the whole fucking world!" Whist snapped.

"No. No you protected yourself, because you are terrified of dying. And not because you love life, or because there's something you need to do with it, but because you haven't even started to live yet. There is no point to your life, you travel to hide the fact that you are going nowhere, and you fight to make yourself forget that you strive for nothing, you just keep moving, hoping that some purpose will jump out at you and teach you how to fucking live. Well, I'm alive, Whist, and I will not be dragged down by you any longer." She paused and raised her eyebrows to see if Whist had anything more to say, but he merely re-set his jaw and turned away again.

"Good luck with the fight." She said, and then walked off.

"Have a good life…princess."

He didn't know if she heard it, he didn't care. The next moment the start of his fight was announced blaringly over the loudspeaker, and he sprinted out of the store and into action, grabbing the distraction happily.

He sped down the hall, looking all around for Wolfwood; having done some background searching on him earlier he knew basically what to look for. He tried to stick to the shadows, using his years of sneaking for all they were worth, but he was not used to motion-sensors, and as he crossed in front of a seemingly harmless display of dolls and trees it suddenly burst into glowing, singing life as they tried to educate him about forest fires.

The next second he thought the world had exploded, as a massive banging filled the air. He had half a second to spare on panic before he lunged behind the display to protect himself from the machine gun fire. The smiling children and spinning trees were obliterated into a smoldering pile of tin and fizzing wires, but the steel base protected Whist from being turned into Swiss cheese. He peered out, and saw Wolfwood on the walkway one floor up, scanning the hall for the tattooed boy. In his hands he held his famous trigun, and Whist couldn't help but give a low whistle of polite awe before ducking behind his defense again.

"Long-range huh? Ok, two can play that game." He mused, and then pulled a shuriken off his belt and jumped out.

Wolfwood fired immediately, the machine gun raining bullets on the rogue. Whist broke into a sprint, staying just ahead of the spray, and then chucked a shuriken up at the gunman. Wolfwood ducked to avoid it, forcing him to cut off his fire briefly—long enough. Whist leapt up the side of a fountain in the middle of the hall, more disks in hand, and then threw them to either side of Wolfwood, leaping off the fountain afterward and landing on the walkway across from Wolfwood and pausing to check his work.

He was sorely disappointed to see Wolfwood unfazed, one shuriken harmlessly on the floor, the other stuck in the hard casing of his gun, causing no real damage. Whist cursed and grabbed more disks. Wolfwood held his gun up, and with a large rattling the back opened and he pulled out a handgun, aimed and began to fire just as Whist threw the first blade.

They broke into a simultaneous sprint, running down the opposing side of the hall, bullets and shuriken volleying between them, spreading chaos and panic before and behind them. Wolfwood tossed aside handguns as they emptied, pulling out new ones in the same, smooth motion, his massive luggage not hindering his mobility in the slightest. But both of them only had so much lung power, and so far until the hall ran out (although in this place, that could be miles) and Wolfwood could only take the monotony so long. Suddenly he stopped, swung up the short end of his gun, smacking aside two more shuriken as he did and primed and fired the rocket with one sharp move.

Whist swore massively and reversed his momentum hard, barely avoiding the rocket and falling just on the edge of the massive destruction in reaped. He barely had his footing back when the machine gun was on his heels once more, giving him no choice but to run forward towards the crater he had created. Whist was just tipping over the edge when Blink snapped his hand into his jaw and they blinked out.

They reappeared just below, among the rubble and shrieking patrons—many of whose shrieks were of excitement rather than the proper emotion of horror. The crowd had really become desensitized to this nonsense.

"Shit." Whist gasped. "Two may play but that not as good as that…fuck…"

Blink grumbled and nudged Whist into the momentary shelter of the shop they stood outside. Whist panted to regain his breath and then patted Blink's head.

"I appreciate that, but don't do it again, you here? You're still tired from all that teleporting last round, and I know it, so unless I'm about to really get my ass handed to me you don't get yourself involved. No offense but you can't do much against a gun-toting Jesus-freak…" Whist trailed off, considering, and then grinned broadly. "I got an idea."

- - -

Wolfwood patrolled the hall below where the explosion happened, trying to find where that boy and his damn dog had gotten to. Using his rocket launcher so frivolously usually wasn't his style, but he really wanted this round over. This whole tournament was getting under his skin, and he had more important things to be doing and people to punish.

"WOOF!"

He spun around and saw Blink lope down the hall and disappear within a large, arched doorway. When he drew closer he realized it was one of many churches that were nestled throughout this mall, and with an uncertain scowl he slowly opened the door and peered inside.

What he saw made him go pale in horror.

The church was deceptively big, with twenty pews four benches wide covered in red velvet fitting comfortably within. In front of them was an elevated platform made of white marble, where there sat an altar and behind that a massive, gold-faceted wooden cross—upon which Whist was hanging with his arms looped around the cross beam, his feet hooked around the back of the main shaft.

"What's up?" He asked, cocking his head in acknowledgement.

Wolfwood's trigger finger shook, his restraint only extending out of shock and a trembling respect for the sanctity of his location.

"Get…down…" He growled.

"Why? This is really great exercise, stretches your shoulders like you would not believe, and it is quite an endurance test. How long'd he do this? The man musta been freakin' ripped."

"WHIST!" Wolfwood howled, raising his gun and leveling it at him. "Get down, NOW, or I swear I will blow your head off and pay penance to this house of god later."

"This?" Whist said, cocking an eyebrow. "This is God's house? …He needs to get a better interior decorator…and I kinda thought it'd be bigger."

"GET DOWN!"

"Jesus Christ, calm down, I will…I will…"

Whist unhooked his arms and hopped lightly to the floor, standing behind the altar now. Wolfwood ground his teeth as he watched Whist look down, raise his eyebrows and the duck below.

"Well hello!" Whist quipped, popping back up with a plate of communion wafers in hand. "Snacks! The man's a pretty good host after all!"

Whist then grabbed a handful of the wafers and popped them into his mouth, handing a few off to Blink as well.

A vein in Wolfwood's neck throbbed, and with a snarl he lunged forward, ready to grab Whist and drag him somewhere he could rip his face off. But Whist was ready, and ducked below his swiping arm, grabbing it by the wrist and sinking a punch into the gunman's floating rib. He then gripped a shuriken between the fingers of his gauntlet-protected fist and began beating and slicing Wolfwood with it. He kept his strikes long and wide enough to keep Wolfwood's arms spread so he couldn't get his massive gun between them or draw a handgun from its arms. Wolfwood was left defending one-handed, and Whist kept on coming. Wolfwood stayed on the defensive, unwilling to cause suffering in the Lord's house, but he tried to guide the fight to the door. But he just wasn't as good at this, Whist was in too close, and the multi-colored boy was far more accustomed to tight quarters than Wolfwood, and he found himself at a painful disadvantage. The blade never sunk very deep, but the slices it left stung and distracted him further, ad Whist's knuckles bruised bone and sinew and just kept coming.

They started moving sideways, between the pews, making it all the more cramped—something Whist had no argument against. But then he sorely regretted losing that control, as Wolfwood reached the seam of two benches, and with his foot reached out and kicked down a knee-rest from beneath the bench Whist still stood before, knocking Whist sideways onto one of the benches. He pounced, grabbing Whist's hair and pinning an arm behind his back, holding him so his neck was pushed hard on the back of the bench, making him gag and choke for air. Blink growled and started forward. But Wolfwood kicked him hard in the head, knocking him back and stunning him so mightily he whimpered and lay down, his head between his paws.

"You'd best do some penance for the sins you just committed." Wolfwood growled, turning back to Whist and hissing in his ear.

Whist scoffed, and spat on the floor. Wolfwood growled, jerk him up by the hair and started dragging Whist to the door. Once there he tossed Whist to the floor, placing a foot on his spine as he pulled out another handgun, his last, and aimed it for the back of his head.

"You are a sinner, Whist, I can see that clearly. You have no place in this world." Wolfwood growled.

He squeezed the trigger.

Just as he did so two hundred pounds of fur, teeth and claws slammed into him from behind, altering the bullet's course at the last-minute as he tumbled to the floor. Unfortunately, the bullet didn't fly far enough, and though it didn't hit anything vital, it ripped through Whist's side above his hip and burned awfully. Whist screamed in agony, as Wolfwood knocked Blink off of him with a heavy sweep of the trigun. The beast instantly rebounded, running in Wolfwood's way as he made for Whist again, blocking his path and jumping on Whist's back to spirit him away to safety.

- - -

Now here he sat, tucked away in a tire shop not far from where the initial wound had happened, unable to move without extreme pain and nausea, his life slipping away slowly and steadily, Blink exhausted and hopeless. He had never felt so close to death, always able to dodge it and taunt it freely, always such a sneaky bastard he could cheat his way out without a second thought. Maybe that was why the would wouldn't heal, all that luck had finally turned, and it had quickly plummeted to the opposite extreme, and fate finally sunk it's claws into him.

"I think this is it boy..." Whist groaned. "I think...I'm done for..."

Blink whimpered and put his head in his lap, Whist weakly put his hand on his neck and rubbed the wiry fur. As whist faded Blink, too, was weakening, his life force slowly draining with Whist's. One simply could not survive without the other, not only because of the nature of their bond, but because they simply would not have the will.

"It's not so bad...at least, I just got rid of the one person that might have missed me..."

He quieted, but his last thought still raged. Li'ain. She had been right. Thinking about it now he saw how little his death would mean. No one would miss him, nothing would go unfinished, nothing would suddenly go unloved. The world would lack nothing. In the end, that was all he amounted to; nothing. And he would miss nothing from it.

Blink wuffed lightly in disagreement, and Whist's mind went to Li'ain once more, and vaguely he heard the words of Zoro, reminding him what he needed to become to make a difference. No chance now...now that he actually wanted the chance. Li'ain...amidst all the regret and sorrow he felt a sudden wave of frustration and resentment. The fact that she had read through him and predicted this spurned him into a new strength. Fine. If he was going to die here, then die he would, but he would not die hidden behind a pile of tires, shattered and pathetic. He would take something with him, he would prove to her that he could see this through to the end, that he could accomplish something.

He took a deep breath and found his feet. his head spun and he felt his stomach churn, but he closed his eyes a moment and waited to stabilize. Blink loped to his side, and growled with the same new determination that now fired Whist. He opened his eyes, and walked forward, fists clenched, chin up and eyes suddenly fiery with determination. He had found his second, last wind, and he would ride it to victory.

Wolfwood stood outside nearby, and he when he saw whist coming he stood to meet, able to clearly see that the man was near death. He would let him take a moment, and hopefully find repentance in the light of his coming demise. They walked towards each other slowly, Whist's shoulders awkwardly and tensely squared in an attempt to walk straight, and Wolfwood prepping his gun for the firestorm as he sauntered on. There was a death rattle on the air, issued in shuddering gasps through Whist's blood-flecked lips. and all the spectators were still and silent in respectful awe. Whist felt no fear, only determination, if he could do nothing else worth remembering, he would at least die in a manner that someone may speak of once it was done. Once he and Wolfwood stood only a few paces apart they stopped and stared into each other's eyes. Woflwood was impassive, he had done this plenty of times before, but Whist stared at Wolfwood with a determined glare, trying to say with that stare all the hatred and anger he felt in this moment, facing his executioner willingly, and without despair. They let the moment linger, seep into their bones so they knew they both were in this for all it was worth.

And then Whist went for his blades, even as Wolfwood was already pulling the trigger. The gun unleashed a torrent of bullets, all roaring towards Whist, each one ready to carve away a part of his life and rip it from him.

"NO!"

Just before the bullets tore into him, a bubble of swirling black and green energy formed around him and exploded outward, obliterating the bullets and fizzling out just before hitting Wolfwood, but the breeze that came in the wake of it reeked of destruction. Whist gaped in awe, and slowly turned to look over her shoulder, and saw Li-ain, standing with one hand forward towards him, still sparking with the energy that had dissolved the approaching danger.

"Li'ain...what...?" Whist stammered.

"You don't have to prove anything, Whist, you've done enough." Li'ain said, and a single tear rolled down her sculpted cheek. "I don't want you to die."

Whist was speechless, staring at her with his face blank in shock, but Blink yapped happily, and his tail began wagging more fiercely than it had in weeks.

"That may be," Wolfwood growled, hoisting his gun up again. "But I DO!"

The machine gun roared back into life, and the bullets rocketed towards them, whistling with deadly intent. Li'ain reacted immediately, running up to Whist's side and waving a hand in a violent slash. From her hand a wave of the green and black energy rushed forward, destroying the bullets on their way and continuing on to hit his gun, where it connected the gun simply...dissolved. It broke into all the tiny, invisible particles that created it, and it fell into nothingness. Wolfwood cried out and dropped the gun, jumping back and getting out of the way of the wave before it dissolved. The essence of Li'ain's power, was undoing, the things it touched simply unraveled, and were no more. Wolfwood felt the immensity of her power, and shook in fear.

Li'ain stepped forward, standing tall and firm, and, looking him straight in the eye, said softly; "Surrender, or I will destroy you."

Wolfwood crouched low, his fists up, and replied, equally firm. "No."

"Fine."

She lunged forward, her hands enveloped in her anti-life energy. Wolfwood braced himself, and countered her when she struck, and they began a violent, back and forth brawl. They were mostly evenly matched, landing equal amounts of hits and dodging just as many, but every hit that Wolfwood landed left a bruise, but every time Li'ain hit, part of him simply disappeared. In a few seconds, the skin of his forearms was almost completely dissolved, and many spots on his torso bled for a lack of skin.

It all happened so fast Whist didn't even realize it had ended until several moments after Wolfwood was down, but Li'ain has worn him down to the point of no return, and Wolfwood had been overwhelmed by the system shock of so much of him becoming undone. He crumpled to the floor and was still.

Li'ain turned back to Whist and immediately went to work on his wound, gently encouraging him to lie back as she began pulling out strange bottles and bags of things Whist could only assume she had bought here, as he had never seen the likes in all his years of travel. As she applied several salves and liquids Whist felt some of his strength returning, and once more he came back from the brink.

"Why'd you do it Li'ain?" He asked softly, as she began to stitch the wound shut.

"I told you, I don't want you to die."

Whist gulped back a sentimental hiccup. "But…why?"

Li'ain looked up at him, her mouth a tight, thin line of frustration, and sighed. "Because…you're my best friend."

Whist was stunned, and so remained silent as she continued.

"For as much of an ass as you are, for all your short comings, you're the only who has ever just…let me be me, and not faulted me for it. I…I didn't realized until I watched you come two steps from death a few too many times." She laughed weakly, not actually finding anything funny in this terribly embarrassing speech of hers. "I've…never had a real friend before, Whist. I can't lose the only one I have."

Whist sat up slowly after she tied off the last stitch, staring at her with wide, misty eyes, and then pulled her into a tight hug, sniffling softly and whispering;

"Thank you."

They separated, looking at each other shyly, like children all of the sudden with this foreign idea of friendship, at a loss with what to do with it.

"So…I'm sorry." Li'ain finally murmured.

"Fuck that, I'm an ass." Whist replied. "I apologize."

Li'ain grinned. "Accepted. So…does this mean…we're friends, then? You and me?"

Whist sighed. "I guess it does. You'll have to excuse me, I've never had one before."

"I told you, me neither."

"Well, good, then we can fuck up the friendship as much as we need to and we'll never be any wiser."

Li'ain chuckled, and then threw herself into Whist's arms again, hugging him fiercely, and slowly, firmly, he returned the embrace. They stayed that way for a long few moments, until finally Blink whined and reminded them not so subtly that he was still there, he was hungry, and he wanted attention. Whist gave it to him gladly, nuzzling him and praising him until Li'ain asked;

"So what now?"

Whist looked up at her, beaming brightly. "Let's start something." He said. "It doesn't matter what, and it's not too big a deal yet, why, let's just get something started and do it and make a statement." He took Li'ain's hand, "And let's get the fuck out of here and started before the last round when this whole places blows up."

Li'ain laughed and let him lead her on the way out.

It wasn't what she had expected or wanted, and it hadn't gone the way he was so used to things going, but the two of them felt that suddenly a chapter of their lives had closed, and the next one was begging now, and it would mark the start of the real action, the climax of their lives, and they walked into it together.

**Hey all, a little late but whatevs. Here you go, last round of the tournament. I wish the end had been a little less cheese-ball and a little more drawn out, but I had one day and not a lot of sleep with which to write this, so overall I'm happy. I hope you are too!**


End file.
